


ABDITORY

by arrowinthesky (restfulsky5)



Series: Chasing Stars [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Starfleet Academy, Angst, Aviophobia, Chubby James T. Kirk, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Food/eating issues, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Pining Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Romance, Sleepwalking, single dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restfulsky5/pseuds/arrowinthesky
Summary: A place in which you can disappear.Better known as Jim’s hiding place.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Gary Mitchell, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Series: Chasing Stars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/579178
Comments: 25
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! It’s been awhile. I’m truly sorry about that, but I’m hoping to get back into a McKirk writing groove with this fic. I’ll be posting this particular story as often as I can, which will be every other day/few days— since each chapter will be shorter, it should be fairly easy to maintain the desired momentum. I honestly think about my other McKirk fics EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Usually bemoaning my writer’s block. But trying to persevere here. It’s a start, at least. 
> 
> Thanks to ‘Rona who inspired this story, I can finally follow up a series I absolutely loved writing but couldn’t continue at the time. Hope you enjoy it. The boys may seem slightly OOC to you—please keep in mind that this is an AU of the Academy. They’ve had different experiences already than in AOS. They’re going to be different. :) This story begins shortly after the second part to this series. There will be mentions about Tarsus but this is NOT a fic about Tarsus. Actually, I’m trying to leave it out as much as possible. The focus is Jim and McCoy, and Jim working through things. I have a special place in my heart for this particular Jim. I personally know how to work through trauma—that’s what I’ve been doing whilst away from the fandom for the most part—and although mine is different from Jim’s, it gave me a kernel of inspiration. I am not at what I think is an ideal weight (fibromyalgia and Hashimoto’s make that difficult) but I do not have an eating disorder—please know, I am approaching that issue with as much care as possible. :)
> 
> Huge thanks to the ever gracious Diamondblue4 and Junker5 for the support and edits. I will never be able to fully convey how much the support means to me. You are all wonderful. ❤️

Jim, well-practiced in the art of avoidance, admittedly used David as a barrier between himself and Leonard whenever he could. Everything was about the child, and if it didn’t need to be, he made sure it was. When he managed to be home, there wasn’t a time that he didn’t have his son by his side or in his arms—or the child’s name on the tip of his tongue.

If Leonard had noticed the pattern over the past month, the first four weeks they had lived together, he didn’t say. Gaila, on the other hand, immediately noted his habits, but she was always oblivious to the fact that he was overweight. Oh, she knew, but she never rubbed it in his face like other people did.

But, she knew, his worst critic was himself. He had finally been convinced. Therapy had seen to that. The sessions were supposed to help but all they’d done was shed light on the fact that he would never measure up to the standards of an ideal captain, let alone the ideal roommate or boyfriend. He had to settle for reality, claim whatever little accomplishments he was worthy of having, using his cover as a father to, well, distract Leonard and anyone else that mattered.

Leonard mattered?

The thought shouldn’t have been such an epiphany.

He stumbled on the climb up the stairs, banging his elbow on the railings before he fell again, the weight of his backpack pulling him down until his knee met with the hard concrete. A hand reached down to grab him.

“Woah, big fella.”

Despite the pain that ricocheted up his leg, Jim resisted. The hand held him firmly.

“Stop fighting me—” A man groaned, heaving him to his feet. “Jim? What are you doing here?”

The voice was familiar—but how could it possibly be him?

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He looked his rescuer in the face. And froze. “G—Gary?”

Gary’s low whistle brought more unwelcome attention to Jim’s predicament, his rescuer’s familiar eyes looking him up and down slowly, not once, but twice. “Wow.”

It wasn’t said nicely. Blood rushed to his face. If Jim could have disappeared into a hole in the floor, he would have.

“Jesus, Jim, have you put on more weight?”

Only one person had ever been so bluntly outspoken in public. “Hey, Gary,” he croaked, weaving on his feet.

He hadn’t thought he’d see the upperclassman on campus much, if at all, especially since Gary was on the command track and Jim wasn’t. It was just his luck to literally run into him now.

His smile undeniably a smirk, Gary slowly released his hold on the fleshy part of Jim’s arm, letting the moment spin out longer than was needed. No doubt, either to let Jim see how much he, Gary, hadn’t changed or how much Jim had—or both.

Gary’s mouth twitched. “You have, haven’t you?”

A pair of students came up to them on the steps, pausing just long enough to give Jim a pointed look.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, stepping aside to let them pass.

“It’s a good look on you.” Gary’s eyes flickered from his bloated stomach to his thick shoulders and neck, right up to Jim’s round, flushed face.

It shouldn’t have hurt him. Gary had said those very words to Jim in the past. Multiple times, actually. Inappropriate, yet effective. They’d excuse his self-doubt that roiled inside him like a ravenous beast. Gary’s inappropriate attention had been important to Jim in high school. Gary was the only person who noticed him, and he’d always thought Gary had known exactly how to trigger his destructive tendencies, while seeming to praise him. The underhanded compliment not only encouraged Jim to sate his hunger for approval and acceptance with food—it sabotaged his fragile willpower to resist. Gary’s approval gave him the excuse he needed to eat. Allowed him to ignore the true catalyst—his own worthlessness.

But he wished he had that dark freedom to indulge now, instead of this guilt burdening him, especially when Leonard was around. The doctor tried to understand his obsession with food, especially now, because Jim was clearly suffering from an eating disorder that was damaging his health, but Jim’s past was a scourge he couldn’t evade. He didn’t know how to find the inner strength to give it up.

Nothing else brought him the pleasure that food did.

Nothing.

Gary laughed. “Honestly, I’m amazed at how good that body of yours still looks when you pack on the pounds like that. You don’t find that here very often.”

Images of lean and fit cadets filled his vision. Jim knew he’d never be one of them, marked by invisible scars that no one here knew about. But he worried that Leonard was starting to figure it out.

Jim’s throat shrunk. “N-no, I guess you don’t.”

“How the hell did you pass the fitness test?” Gary rushed on without letting him explain that he was usually surprisingly agile with just enough strength to get by. “You better watch where you’re walking, since you can’t see your feet,” he added, brushing off both of Jim’s well-padded shoulders with broad strokes as if he were a child who had played in the dirt.

Jim blushed. “Sure.”

“Maybe leave the backpack in the dorm, huh?”

“It’s for my classes,” Jim mumbled, adjusting the straps.

Gary hummed. “They usually are, you goof.” He looked at Jim quizzically. “I never expected to see you here.”

Jim wanted to die. “N-no, I imagine you didn’t.”

Crossing his arms, Gary leaned against the wall, his piercing good looks captivating Jim’s attention despite the cool judgment in his gaze. “I really never thought I’d see you here,” he repeated with a laugh. “Starfleet?”

Jim shrugged.

“Why?”

“Needed a change of pace.”

Gary’s eyes narrow. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

The observation, although true, irritated him. “People grow up.”

Gary looked amused. “True. It’s been what—five?—”

“Four,” Jim mumbles, wrenching his eyes away from Gary’s face. “Four year—”

“—years since you walked out on me.” Gary crossed his arms. “Talk about blindsiding someone. I expected better from you, Jim.”

Jim swallowed hard. He couldn’t deny his actions, but he wouldn’t apologize. They’d been close up until the time Jim had been stupid. They’d dated for more than a year, and what did Jim do when Gary had gotten a little too close to all his secrets?

He had moved away. No, he’d fled, right into someone else’s willing arms.

Not that Gary had ever treated him like they were exclusive, or even serious. Once they’d parted, he’d realized that Gary had actually verbally abused him at times, but Jim always chocked it up to the stress Gary always seemed to put on himself.

Jim, being the size he was then—which was as large as he was now—couldn’t afford to be picky. He knew Gary had considered him a trophy, not an equal, although he personally couldn’t see his worth in that light. But Gary looked good—fit and thin—standing next to Jim. He could afford being with someone like Jim short-term because he seemed to get away with everything he did, even date a poor overweight, underachieving human, without damaging his status.

“So.” Gary’s smirk widened. “You’re not command track, are you?”

Jim had never hated himself more. “You know I had thought about becoming an engineer someday.”

“In Starfleet?”

“My dad was in Starfleet,” he said.

“Your dad wasn’t an engineer. He was a fucking captain.”

Did he have to rub it in? “For mere minutes.”

Gary rolled his eyes. “Can’t you ever take a compliment?”

“That wasn’t about me—“

“I’ll probably run into you again,” Gary interrupted, “Although I’ll be headed out on the Delphi next week. Won’t be gone for too long.”

“Three months?” Jim guessed.

“Two this time, but you know how it is. Could be longer because, well, Archer,” he added with a shrug.

Jim did know—he paid attention to everything about Starfleet. It’s how he had known Gary was here, too—but Gary didn’t give him a chance to explain that, either.

Gary clapped a hand on Jim’s back. “Hey, look. I gotta run, but you be careful, Jim.”

“Right.” Jim said, not knowing really what to say, or how he could feel so offended, when it looked like Gary actually cared.

“The stairs on the west side are even steeper.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Maybe use the lift if you’re in a hurry, so you don’t hurt yourself.” Gary winked before walking away.

Only when he couldn’t see his ex in the distance did Jim realize he’d never told Gary about the best part of his life.

David.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have a moment to spare, your reviews mean the world! XX


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really missed these two. Hope you enjoy it.

When Jim Kirk walked in the door to their apartment, wearing a sweater that brought out his eyes and made them sparkle, the sight took Leonard’s breath away.

“Is that sweater new?” Leonard asked.

“Hi,” Jim mumbled, turning towards the kitchen as if he hadn't heard the question.

Despite the snub, Leonard couldn’t look away, hoping to catch Jim’s eye even as Jim shuffled away. There was something remarkable about the younger man that had captured his heart, and Leonard was smitten. How this had happened, he had no damn clue. But over the course of just a mere few weeks, he’d fallen. Hard. Leonard could name a million reasons why he shouldn’t care for the man. He knew his own shortcomings too well. Leonard had a nasty record with relationships. It was more likely that he’d hurt Jim, rather than vice-versa.

That was the last thing he wanted to happen.

“Hey, how was your day?” he asked, getting to his feet and trailing after Jim like an eager puppy.

Damned if he’d let another evening go by without actually talking with the man.

“David?” Jim asked, setting his backpack on the kitchen table.

“Already asleep.”

Jim nodded, drumming his fingers on his backpack. “What time do you need to leave?”

“My shift starts at midnight.”

Jim winced and looked at his watch. “That’s in two hours. Did you sleep at all today?”

Leonard nodded. “Yes.”

“You did?” Jim peered at him, his blue eyes full of doubt.

So it was a white lie. “Of course, I did,” Leonard shrugged. “Right before I picked up the little guy.”

“You couldn’t have slept for long, and you’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”

“Stop worrying,” he ordered, the words coming out sharper than he’d intended.

Jim’s eyes widened. “Sorry?”

Leonard shrugged a shoulder in apology. “You have enough to worry about without adding me to the list, Jim.”

Jim frowned. “Actually, I was more concerned about David, than you.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t seen that response coming, and it caught him on the hop.

“If you’re not getting enough sleep, you won’t be alert enough to watch David. He’s into everything these days.”

Leonard tried not to take Jim’s doubt personally. “Jojo was the same way at his age.”

“You mean she managed to climb onto the counter,” Jim said dryly, “and dump out all the baking supplies when I was in the other room for just a moment?”

Leonard tried not to smile. “All kids are curious.”

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Jim stepped forward, eyes hard and voice firm. “I need to know the truth, McCoy. I’m serious.”

Leonard’s brows shot up. “Yes, sir. I assure you I’m quite capable of caring for David.”

Jim‘s frown deepened. “Promise me.”

“I am, sir.”

Jim glared at him. “Stop that.”

“Stop what, sir?” He had to admit—Jim was damn attractive when he was pissed. Those eyes practically shot blue fire.

“Leonard?”

Leonard didn’t want to stop jerking Jim’s chain now. It was the most he’d gotten Jim to say lately. And, he loved being the cause of the bee in the young man’s bonnet. “Sir?” he inquired, with faux innocence.

Jim rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “Did you annoy your last roommate like this?”

“No, unless you count my ex-wife as a roommate.”

“I don’t have time for your bull. I need to make dinner,” Jim said, abruptly tiring of the banter. He turned his back to Leonard and crossed to the replicator. Punching a code into the machine, he said, “But I’m serious about David, Leonard.”

“Jim, you know I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize David’s safety.”

Jim blew out a breath. “I know.”

“Actually, it doesn’t sound like you do know.”

Jim blinked. “Sorry,” he said, tone going soft. “I know David’s in good hands, or I wouldn’t leave him with you.”

There was something disconcerting in his voice. “Jim?” He took a step forward, his unease growing.

Jim removed his plate and gave Leonard a tentative smile. “Sorry I jumped on you like that. It’s been a long day and I overreacted.”

“You’re just looking out for your son.”

“I know you’d never leave him unsupervised.”

Leonard wondered who had neglected Jim when he was a child. “Some people aren’t very trustworthy, but I’m not one of them.”

“You get to play with him more than I do.” Jim slumped into a chair and shoveled a bite of stuffed chicken breast into his mouth.

Leonard didn’t hesitate to sit down at the table across from him. He hated that Jim sounded so low. “It's fun. David’s an interesting little kid.”

“Leonard, you don’t need to keep me company. Go use your free time to study, or something,” Jim ordered between mouthfuls.

“I don’t need to study. There’s nothing this semester I don’t know already.”

“So humble.”

Leonard had to smile. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew me better.”

“Maybe so.” Jim paused. “You’ve been a doctor for awhile, but I’ve never asked you. Is it strange to be here at the Academy after you’ve already had a career?”

“I’m not that old,” he retorted, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles.

“You’ve already done more than most cadets have,” Jim pointed out.

“Maybe.” Leonard sighed. “The truth is, I should’ve signed on earlier, but…”

“But…?” Jim leaned forward, eyes widening as if he expected a great secret.

Jim’s childlike response made him smile. “Nothing.” Like Leonard would say anything about his aviophobia.

Jim cocked his head. “You’re hiding something.”

“Now, what makes you say that?”

Jim waved his fork in the air. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“You didn’t ask me anything.”

“It was implied.”

“It was not.”

“Avoiding.”

“Nope, you’re being nosy.” Leonard plucked a grape from Jim’s plate, noticing suddenly, that Jim had selected a full-course meal for his dinner—and then some.

“I skipped lunch,” Jim offered, defensively, his shoulders hunched beneath Leonard’s scrutiny.

“Yeah?” It wasn’t like Jim to skip meals, but this was the Academy. Who knew what had gotten in the way of Jim Kirk’s lunch?

“Gary.”

Leonard didn’t quite grasp the meaning of Jim’s morose response.

Snorting, Jim took a larger bite. “Never mind,” he mumbled, his mouth full.

“The name is something of importance to you or you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Jim swallowed. “Have you ever met someone who was the best thing that happened to you—but also the worst?”

Jim came instantly to mind, because Leonard could hardly think straight when he was around the man, but he shook his head. “Not unless you count my ex.”

“Gary is my ex-boyfriend.” Jim shivered, pushing his plate away.

“Based on the black cloud of doom over your head, I’m guessing he’s a jerk.”

Jim sat, quietly, his gaze on his hands in his lap.

“Hey,” Leoanrd said after a moment, not liking Jim’s affect. “Are you okay, kid?”.

Jim said nothing.

Leonard reached over and gave his wrist a squeeze. “Go to bed, Jim. You look beat. I can check on David before I leave.”

“Did he miss me today?” Jim asked, lifting troubled eyes.

He hated the misery he saw in them. “Don’t tell me that you don’t really know the answer to that, Jim.”

“I hate getting home late.”

“He’ll understand. Hell, by tomorrow, he’ll have forgotten you weren’t home before he went to bed. You’re the most important person to that little boy, and I’m proud of you.”

“You hardly know me.”

If only he could rectify that situation. “I hear it every time he says your name, and when you walk into the room, his face lights up like a damn Christmas tree.”

When Jim’s eyes crinkled at the corners with happiness, Leonard knew he was in deep trouble. He had fallen into Jim Kirk’s orbit and he had no intention of escaping.

“I can’t imagine life without him.” Jim’s voice grew distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“No, I imagine you can’t. That’s what kids do to you. Claim your heart and change your life.”

Jim sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.”

“Stop apologizing. My daughter isn’t a taboo subject.”

Jim fought back a yawn. “When do you see her next?”

“I’m not sure. My schedule is completely full—and my breaks don’t necessarily always correlate with well with Jocelyn’s planner.”

“Jocelyn?”

“My ex.”

“You’ve never spoken about her.”

“You’ve never spoken about Gary, either.”

Jim’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Touché.”

“He must be an idiot.”

“Our breakup was all on me.”

“I doubt that, kid. You’re not a bad guy.”

Jim gave a short laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you didn’t know me in high school.”

He shook his head. “Didn’t have to. You’re a rare man, Jim Kirk.. Not many people I know would fight to be with a son they had never met.”

“I couldn’t live with the thought of him being raised by Carol’s family.”

He’d heard plenty of dark rumors about Admiral Marcus that garnered concern. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore. David’s safe with you. With us,” he amended, his words a vow.

Jim’s mouth gaped open. He stared at Leonard. The shocked silence grew, creating a greater space between them than ever before.

Hating the awkwardness of the moment, and silently cursing his impulsive words, Leonard stood and took Jim’s plate. “Go to bed, Jim. Doctor’s orders.”

To his surprise, Jim obeyed. He headed to bed without a protest, momentarily pausing as he passed Leonard, and saying so softly that Leonard almost missed the soft response. “Yes, sir.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the hopes that he could avoid Gary, Jim chose to take a shortcut to his first class the next day, making it there in record time. Still, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that someone was watching every move he made, but perhaps he was over-vigilant. Old habits like that never went away. It wasn’t like he would run into Gary every time he walked around campus but, given the streak of bad luck he often had, he wouldn't be surprised if he did. And when he least expected it.

The professor droned on about the newest safety procedures on starships, and Jim’s mind wandered more than it should, distracting him from taking notes. Not that he needed to take notes. His eidetic memory was his advantage. He liked to think of it as his greatest superpower. That along with his IQ. Both attributes had convinced the admission department to overlook his physical weaknesses, granting a place for him at the Academy as long as he participated in basic training.

Jim almost missed the end of class—it came five minutes early—but the girl seated next to him, a female Catan with surprisingly long curly hair that went down to her knees—nudged him with her tail.

And then it slid up his leg.

He hurried out of his seat, cheeks flaming red, hoping no one had seen her actions. She had initiated the first steps of a Catan mating ritual, he was certain of it. It had to be. More disturbing, however, if that was even possible, was that the Catan had chosen him to—

“Jim?”

He stopped in his tracks. “Spock? You’re early.” He’d nearly passed him by.

Spock arched a brow. “You were distracted.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I spoke with Leonard,” Spock said. “He mentioned you talked with Cadet Mitchell.”

“Um, yeah.” Jim was relieved he’d listened to the doctor, and informed Spock about the encounter with Gary. Spock had a reputation for propriety in Starfleet, one that preceded him. Maybe a little too much, for the other cadets usually made a beeline for the exit whenever the Vulcan came into the room.

“About that,” Jim continued.

Hoping to forestall conversations with any of his classmates, who often choose to corner him if they had questions, he gave Spock a look and jerked his head for him to follow, leading him towards the conservatory on the third floor where there was a garden—and privacy.

“Jim, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Cadet Kirk,” Spock said. “I am capable of walking on my own.”

Jim suddenly realized he had somehow latched on to Spock’s arm. He grimaced, letting go like his life depended on it. “Sorry,” he said. “This way?” He motioned towards a bench in the far right corner by a picture window, surrounded by rare, hanging plants from all over the world.

His favorite spot. Even if someone was a few meters away, they couldn’t see him, because the foliage was too thick. Some days, he sat here for lunch. It was quietest then.

“If you insist,” Spock said.

“Thanks for humoring me,” Jim said, sitting down and patting the empty seat beside him.

Arching an eyebrow, Spock took a seat and stared at Jim. “He unsettled you.”

“Who? Leonard?” Jim shook his head. “Naw.”

“Cadet Mitchell.”

Oh. “He’ll be a captain someday.”

“Possibly. He will have to be a lieutenant first.”

“He’ll probably find some way to get promoted faster than you could say chicken,” Jim said.

“Chick-en,” Spock repeated, in two separate syllables.

Jim shrugged. “A phrase my grandfather used to use.”

“Your grandfather.”

Spoken more like a statement, than the question it was, Jim volunteered more information about his family than he ever had. “He was alive until shortly after George, my brother, took off to live his life in who the hell knows—I think my grandfather loved my brother best, and it just...killed him. To be left with…” Jim’s voice trailed off. “‘A fattie.’”

The pause was telling.

“They were not aware of your past?”

Jim looked sharply at Spock. “You know I don’t mention that.”

Spock’s mouth thinned.

Shit, if that meant he had talked to Leonard about Jim raiding the kitchen in the middle of the night...

“I did not speak with Dr. McCoy,” Spock said.

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know what I was thinking?”

“I’m—a telepath.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “You are a touch telepath so that means—Leonard told you? About my sleepwalking?”

“He mentioned your curious habit. I asked him to say nothing.”

Jim blew a sigh of relief. Neither of them broke his trust.

“He was concerned,” Spock said softly.

“He wants to talk about it.”

“Do you?”

“You know I don’t.”

“You must, before long, Jim.”

“For David’s sake,” Jim muttered. “I know.” He looked out the window, wishing the rain clouds would shower the campus with rain. “It’s just—what if he decides it’s too much to handle—”

He swallowed, feeling sick. He could hardly stomach the thought.

“And he leaves?” Spock finished after a moment.

Abandonment. His worst fear.

Jim nodded.

“I cannot speak on his behalf, but I believe Dr. McCoy is level-headed and merely wants to help you.”

He twisted his hands in his lap. The dreaded “H” word. Help. It always came down to that, and he couldn’t accept it like they wanted him to. Like Pike wanted him to.

“We will not force you,” Spock said gently. “However, I must suggest looking into the idea.”

“A shrink.” With his luck, therapy would unravel all his secrets. Where would he be then?

“You are a good father, Jim. Do not let your doubt or fear prevent you from seeking aid.”

He gave a short laugh. “My whole life, I had no one, Spock. No one.” He grew quiet. “And then it changed. And, sometimes?”

Spock watched him closely.

“I resent it,” he said in a soft voice. “I resent that I had to have help to survive so much that I—that I find myself returning there in my mind. At least there I was independent. I was in charge. Helpful. The leader.” His stomach knotted. “Here?”

Where he stood out like a sore thumb? Where he was the brunt of jokes? Many of them crude and hurtful and untrue—

He suddenly stood, jaw tight. “I’m nobody.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jim had had better mornings, but the migraine last night had come out of nowhere. And it had almost done him in and would have, except for one needy little boy.

He loved when he could hold his son close, just not when they’re both under the weather. David had crawled up beside him, unknowingly nudging him closer and closer to the edge of the mattress like he—Jim—was the intruder in the bed. Despite his own pain, he’d immediately noticed the boy’s eyes were overly bright and his cheeks were flushed with fever. After medicating them both, Jim had slept fitfully, one ear alert for any signs of further distress from David.

But he’d woken up late, feeling like a twisted noodle and as weak as a kitten. The last straw was his realization that he hadn’t quite finished his essay the night before—at the very moment Leonard was running out the door to begin his own day.

He couldn’t ask Leonard for help. If only he could find a magical portal. One that would take him away from his troubles and worries. Although not without David, of course.

He sighed, sagging into a chair at the table, wishing the world would disappear, instead, since that might be easier.

“See ya, kid,” Leonard called out, his attention obviously elsewhere. Probably thinking about a patient instead of the door’s exact location.

“Be careful,” Jim called out, causing Leonard to miss colliding with the door frame just in time.

The door shut behind Leonard with a finality that reminded Jim of his place, and his responsibilities, in the world. This was his life, he had no other prospects on the table, and he couldn’t sit here and mope like a college student fresh out of high school. He was an adult. Had been for a few years. Now that he was David’s sole guardian, he felt ancient.

“Daddy, I had an acc’dent!”

The little voice coming from the bathroom sounded heartbroken. Embarrassed, even.

“I’ll be right there, buddy. “

He rummaged through the drawers for fresh underwear and pants for David, reminding himself to put the rest of the clothes in the refresher as soon as he got home. There was no time now.

He was on his own he acknowledged grimly. There was no way he could watch David, take all his classes, and turn his paper in on time today. The professor, one of Spock’s acquaintances, preferred his students hand them in in person.

He’d have to skip his first two classes at the very least. He’d never missed a class, despite juggling the many hats he wore—father, student, and provider—but this one time—he had no other choice.

“Daddy,” David whimpered from their room.

A thought came to him as he stood and he pushed the chair back with new determination. . Nyota would watch David—he knew she would—if he asked. It would be asking a lot from her. She’d have to miss a class, too. Or part of one while he handed in his paper. But David couldn’t go to daycare this sick.

“Daddy?” David cried out pitifully.

Jim rushed into the room and knelt beside the toilet. He cupped David’s warm check. “Hey, Buddy.”

With his eyes closed, and bottom lip trembling, David held out a small PADD for Jim to see.

“What’s this?” Jim asked gently.

“Read. I hut!”

Jim’s chest squeezed. He hated to see his son in pain. “I will clean you up and get the medication Dr. McCoy recommended first, Buddy,” he soothed, recalling Leonard’s quick exam after sticking his head in Jim’s room, where David had awakened, crying,first thing this morning. “And then you can try to sleep while I read your book.”

David’s eyes closed. “O-tay,” he mumbled, inserting his thumb into his mouth.

Standing back from him, Jim’s heart clenched again. It seemed like one minute, his son was growing up, and the next—they were back to a previous time when Jim, while technically and legally David’s father, did not yet exist as a safe and loving parent.

Had Carol been a good mother? Despite the company she had kept? What would have happened if Carol had actually survived the accident? Jim shuddered. David could have been left with a stepfather worse than Jim’s own.

_His small son would have continued to be abused._

After changing David and putting him on their couch, he headed for the kitchen where he had left the hypospray, thoughts spiraling. David was safe—but they potentially had other problems. As David’s sole living grandparent, Admiral Marcus hadn’t sought him out yet to make demands, but Jim wasn’t naive enough to think that the admiral would permanently leave him alone. Jim wanted to be left in peace to live his own life, without the curse of a dead, heroic father and a politically-connected ‘Fleet admiral hanging over his head. He had no desire to give that man an inch—but could he really do anything but agree if Marcus asked to see David? A powerful man like the admiral got what he wanted. No one would deny him. And Jim had no doubt that he’d use whatever leverage he could on Jim to get his way without a single qualm. He’d either try to take David from him, or use Jim’s heralded father for his own benefit.

Because that’s what people like Marcus did. They used him.

He’d be damned before he used anyone in the same way.

Jim grabbed a cup of juice for David along with the hypospray. Leonard had already proven to be a valuable friend. He’d recommended a pediatrician for David when Jim first moved here with his son. Not that Jim looked at their friendship as a convenient means to an end. Having felt used his whole life, he liked to think he would be the last person to ever treat someone like they were an object to manipulate. He simply appreciated the act of kindness. He’d give the shirt off his own back to Leonard, in return, if he needed it.

—oOo—

Leonard trudged back to the lift after a long day. His spirits were as low as dirt, but it wasn’t because his time was in high demand, which it was, or that he’d overscheduled himself, which he had.

`  
No. It had nothing to do with his classes. He wished it did. Either of those would be better than trying to ignore what was breaking his heart.

He thanked his lucky stars he didn’t have to see Jim tonight. He had a long shift starting in an hour, which gave him just enough time to study for an exam tomorrow.

“Dr. McCoy.”

“Yeah,” he said, not slowing a beat as Captain Pike fell into step beside him.

“You’ve spoken to Jim today?”

“This morning.”

“Not since then?”

“No.” The look on Pike’s face gave him pause. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure. He didn’t show up for any of his classes.”

That was unusual. “Did you try his comm?”

“Several times.”

“It’s not like him to skip classes. Although Jim did look pretty rough this morning...” His voice faded.

Pike shook his head. “I’m not concerned about Jim’s health or attendance record at the moment. I’m worried about David.”

Leonard stopped. This didn’t sound good.

“The Admiral mentioned him in a meeting this morning,” Pike continued.

His blood ran cold. “What did he say?”

“He didn’t mention Jim, but wanted to know what I thought of his grandson, David.”

Damn it. “I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to make inquiries.”

As far as he knew, Jim didn’t know the admiral. According to Jim, the man had ignored both his daughter and the man who had gotten her pregnant, considering them beneath his notice.

Pike sighed. “He wants to see David. In his words, ‘make sure he’s being raised right’ now that the boy is with his biological father.”

“Jim isn’t going to like that.”

“There’s no preventing it, I’m afraid.”

“No,” Leonard said. “I don’t imagine there would be. What do you suggest we do?”

“To soften the blow? Make sure an appropriate chaperone is also present when he visits that boy, at the very least.”

“I’m sure Jim wouldn’t object to having me there when he does. And Marcus can’t say I’m an inappropriate person in David’s life, being a doctor.”

“I don’t trust the man, Leonard. He’s cold and he has an agenda. He doesn’t care who gets hurt along the way as long as he gets what he wants in the end.”

“I’ve heard stories. At the hospital,” Leonard admitted. “I’ll do my best to protect them both.”

Pike smiled. “You’re a good man, Dr. McCoy.”

“I try.”

“I’m sure Jim appreciates everything you do for him.”

“It’s—I just wish he’d let me do more,” Leonard stumbled, silently cursing himself when Pike seemed to peer at him more closely.

“Are things going well between the two of you?”

Something, a stray thought, tugged at the back of his mind. “Couldn’t be better.”

He only wished they had more time to get to know each other.

“That David is a heartbreaker. He looks just like his daddy.”

_David_. “Dammit.” Leonard groaned, running a hand over his face. “David wasn’t feeling well this morning. That’s probably why Jim missed classes. He stayed home to take care of David.”

“Jim doesn’t have a back up plan for this kind of thing?”

“I fill in the gaps when I can, but today...” Leonard shook his head. How had he missed what was right in front of his eyes? “I should’ve paid more attention.”

“You have a lot on your plate, too, McCoy.”

“It’s not that different from my life before I joined Starfleet.”

“You lived with a three-year-old?”

“You mean Jim?”

Pike’s mouth quirked. “He gets under your skin, too.”

“In a nice way.”

“When you see Jim—will you tell him to come see me?”

The request gave him pause. “He does have a comm, sir.”

“Like I said, I’ve already tried several ties to contact him.. I’ve left messages, as well. I believe it would help my chances of getting Jim to respond quickly if he also hears from you that I need to speak with him right away.”

He shrugged. Jim had a mind of his own. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I have a feeling he’ll listen to you.”

“I’m his roommate, not his therapist.”

“That look on your face says differently.”

Leonard frowned. “Marcus wants more than visitation rights, doesn't he?”

Chris’s expression grew somber. “I need to talk to Jim.”

—oOo—

Somehow, Jim had a full house by the time David had fallen asleep. It wasn’t just Leonard, who was present, having switched shifts for the night, but Ny and Spock at dinner as well.

There was a strange vibe going on. As they ate, Leonard avoided his gaze, while Nyota’s right eyebrow mimicked Spock’s usual brow activity whenever Leonard looked like he was about to speak directly to Jim. Spock hovered around Jim like a Klingon queen bee scoping out its prey. They all seemed on edge. Nothing made sense. He couldn’t remember doing anything wrong, anything to disappoint or anger them.

The silence was killing him. He hated being the center of it.

He finally dropped his fork and threw up his hands. “What is it? What did I do?”

They finally looked at him, even Leonard.

“Nothing,” Leonard muttered, swirling strands of spaghetti onto his fork.

“It is not for me to say,” Spock stated.

“So I did do something.” He looked at Ny. “Would you please tell me?”

Nyota’s gaze shifted to Leonard. “I’m not sure I should be the one to bring it up.”

Frustrated, Jim shoved his plate away with a clatter.

“Jim?” Leonard asked, his hazel eyes sharp with concern.

“I’m not hungry. I have a headache, and I’m not going to sit here and pretend nothing is wrong.” He felt stressed, knowing he was behind in his classes after today’s debacle, and no one wanted to tell him the reason for the cause of the dark cloud hovering in the room.

He didn’t like being manipulated.

Yet he waited for an instant, honoring their friendships. Hoping for the truth.

“I’m sorry,” Leonard finally said.

Suppressing his instinct to flee, Jim forced himself to remain seated. Folded his arms. Felt like a father to three damn adults.

He swallowed thickly. “If you have a problem with me, just say it.”

“You’ve got the wrong idea, kid. I don't have one damn problem with you,” Leonard growled. He straightened in his chair and looked Jim directly in the eye. “Neither do they,” he added, waving a hand towards Ny and Spock.

“Something’s got your panties in a bunch,” Jim retorted.

“It’s not you,” Leonard repeated.

He heard that one before. “Don’t insult me.”

Leonard flinched. “Kid—”

“I’m not a kid—I _have_ a kid,” Jim retorted.

“You're the best part of us,” Nyota said, her quiet answer

Jim was confused. “Then when why—”

“I just don't know how to tell you,” Leonard blurted out. “It’s gonna piss you off and…” His voice trailed off.

“Admiral Marcus.”

Spock’s cool, controlled words dropped into the fraught silence, but Jim couldn't pull his gaze from Leonard’s tormented eyes.

Jim's chest tightened. “What about him?”

“Jim,” Leonard replied softly, his voice filled with sorrow.

His heart began to race and his world shrank to this moment. Leonard and him, and the child sleeping in the other room. Trepidation filled him as he realized that his world was about to significantly change.

Like it had when Carol had died.

Leonard didn't have to say anything more. Jim didn't need to wait for Spock to explain in detail. He just knew. Knew from the unshed tears in Ny’s eyes.

“Marcus wants David.” It was a horrifically easy guess.

“I won't let him.”

Leonard spoke determinedly. As a friend. Maybe more?

A strange feeling swept over Jim. “While I appreciate the sentiment, you don't know how ruthless he is.”

Spock’s face revealed nothing but his dark gaze saw through his bravado. “Yet you do.”

“I have a good idea,” Jim admitted, knuckles white as he clenched his hands into fists.

“Then you know there's not much you can do.”

Jim pushed back from his chair, wishing his life had taken a different turn a decade ago. Wished he hadn't returned to Earth a broken child. Wished he had the skills necessary to face a man who got everything he desired with privilege, wealth, status—and an evil influence. But wishes were useless—

Yet there was something. One thing he could do, if he was strong enough. One defense tactic he could utilize, he had the courage to proceed down that road. “We had our differences, Carol and I, but she did leave me something other than David.”

“You said she wasn’t close to her father.”

“No,” Jim sighed heavily. “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t know what he was up to behind HQ’s back all these years. Carol was smart and perceptive before Marcus ruined her.”

“Explain,” Spock said after a moment, straightening in his chair as Leonard took his reclaimed seat.

“You have something on the bastard.” Leonard shook his head, admiration in his eyes. “I should’ve known you’d have a plan.”

Jim smiled at the smug expression on his friend’s face. “I haven’t even told you what it is yet.”

Leonard leaned forward. “I know you, Jim. You’re too smart not to have planned for this eventually. Why didn’t I see that? I’m sure as hell that Pike doesn’t know about it either.”

“I hoped I’d never have to use it,” Jim clarified. “And people see what they want to. Appearances are deceiving.”

Leonard winced. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Jim said softly.

“We’re on your side, Jim.”

He dropped his gaze to his hands, relaxing his fists. “I know that, too.”


End file.
